


Sparks

by kinoface



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 07:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/pseuds/kinoface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night, Satoshi brings home a boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparks

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Riders on the Storm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/217503) by [kinoface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/pseuds/kinoface). 



> To celebrate finishing this year's Otherworlds fic, I went and wrote something in the same universe as last year's fic. Go figure. Unbeta'd, but thank you to elfie for the encouragement. <3

When Satoshi is eight years old, he dreams of a storm.

He doesn't yet know to call these dreams "visions," but that's what it is: a vision of white-hot tendrils churning inside a grey cloud until they boil and burst down onto the earth below. Five days later, a violent thunderstorm descends upon Susanowo's Capitol City. It is frightening to behold, but for young Satoshi, who has not yet come to understand his visions or what they mean, it is nothing short of terrifying. From his bedroom window, safe on his family's farm outside the capital, he watches the storm unfurl, and each distant bolt, each delayed rumble, makes him shake.

 

His visions intensify, and peak, and fill up his head until he has no choice but to let some of them slip out in his words.

He is discovered. He is branded. He is taken from his home and his family.

He escapes.

He finds Nino.

And ten years later, when he is eighteen years old, he dreams that same dream of the storm.

 

There's not much that startles him anymore, but he is startled by the dream. He still _knows_ things, but it's been years since he's had a vision; he gave up on them after he was taken from his family. But this one comes to him out of nowhere and crawls inside of him, buzzing under his skin until he sees sudden flashes of lightning even when he's awake, until he can barely hear over the thunderous noise in his head. Nino frets and makes him stay home and works twice as hard to feed both of them. The storm comes five days later. It is the worst Susanowo has seen in ten years, and when it passes, so does Satoshi's vision.

He recovers. He goes back out to find work.

And then, one night, he brings home a boy.

*

When Satoshi comes in through the front door, hours past the time he was supposed to return, sopping wet from the rain and carrying what is unmistakably a body, even Nino is speechless at first. Then Satoshi stumbles as he's stepping up out of the entryway, and Nino rushes to help him. They get the boy laid out on the floor and pull away the wool blanket he'd been wrapped up in, and Satoshi goes to find something to dry him off with.

Nino couldn't tell when they were in the doorway, but now that everything is still, he can see that the boy is unconscious but alive. He's taller than Nino but just as thin and around the same age, with soft, boyish features despite a strong nose and thick eyebrows. And on his forearm, peeking out from the torn edge of his sleeve, is the brand. It's fresh, probably no more than a week old. Nino sympathizes.

He glances up and down the boy's body, surveying without touching: there are scrapes and bruises, but nothing appears to be broken or bleeding, and in fact he seems quite healthy. He looks like he's been rolling around in dirt for a week, but beneath that, he has uncallused hands with trim nails, good teeth, a full head of long, thick hair...

"Captain," Nino says when Satoshi returns with an armful of blankets. "He's a noble."

Satoshi says nothing.

"Captain. _Oh-chan._ " Nino reaches out and grasps Satoshi by the shoulders, forcing him to look Nino in the eye. "Why did you bring him here?" He no longer questions that Satoshi has a reason, but he needs to know what it is — needs to know what to do.

Satoshi says, "He's sick."

Nino instinctively flinches back, away from the boy. He trusts Satoshi not to endanger them, but "sick" could mean anything — it could mean something contagious —

"It was the storm," Satoshi continues quietly. He's not looking at Nino anymore. "The lightning came and he swallowed it up, and now it can't get out. It's burning inside of him."

"But that doesn't make any sense."

Satoshi doesn't respond, but Nino can read his expression: _I don't understand it either._ That's just what Satoshi saw, and neither of them knows what it means, but now they have to do their best to deal with it.

Nino huffs out a sigh and grabs one of the blankets from Satoshi. "Fine," he says. "Let's get him dried off before he _really_ gets sick. And you too, Captain, you smell like a wet dog."

*

Satoshi doesn't know the boy's name, but Nino knows enough to find out. He visits Aiba's Apothecary the next day and waves to the owners as he heads into the back room to find their son. Sure enough, Masaki is hunched over his tiny cauldron, brewing potions and making noises of excitement at every little reaction. Just as Nino's about to say hello, something in Masaki's cauldron fizzles and pops, and bright green smoke begins to billow outward. Nino can't see much after that, but he hears Masaki coughing as he uncorks another potion and pours it into the concoction. The liquid sizzles in the pot, and then the smoke fades, and Masaki's eyes find Nino standing in the entryway.

"Nino-chan!" he shouts, face breaking into a smile. His eyebrows are a little singed.

They make small talk, but Nino cuts to the chase before long. "I need you to find something out for me. I can't tell you why just yet, but it's important, so don't screw it up."

"No problem," Masaki says, always more than happy to help. "Anything for Nino-chan."

*

When he gets home, the noble boy is curled up on Satoshi's futon, awake but unmoving. Satoshi is kneeling beside him with a bowl of plain rice. "You have to eat," he says, setting the bowl onto the floor and nudging it towards the futon.

The boy doesn't move.

"Everything is going to get better," Satoshi says, and the boy does react to that, giving a wordless scoff. But Satoshi continues, "Before that, though, it's going to get much worse." His voice drops, so low that Nino can barely hear him from the doorway. "It took you from your family, so you've rejected it. You've pushed it down. I understand that. I did the same. But it won't stay down forever. It's going to come back up. And you'll need your strength if you want to survive it."

The boy finally looks up at him, eyes wide. He sits up with a good deal of effort — Satoshi doesn't help him, just sits and watches — and takes the rice.

"Eat slowly," Satoshi says.

He does.

*

On the second day, he's grown strong enough to get up and walk around. He eats most of the breakfast Satoshi makes for him, and even has a few bites for lunch. When Satoshi leaves in the afternoon to go fishing, Nino stays behind to keep an eye on the boy; he busies himself with cleaning, mending, sharpening his daggers, practicing his card tricks.

That's when the boy approaches him, hands fidgeting as he glances down at the cards in Nino's hands. "Can I see one of your tricks?" he asks shyly.

Nino waves him over, so he sits on the floor — even now, he sits with a noble's propriety, legs folded neatly — and takes a card when Nino lays the deck out before him. "Commit it to memory," Nino orders, sweeping the cards back up into his hands, "and now put it back."

The boy does as he's told, and he waits patiently as Nino begins to shuffle the deck.

"So," Nino says, drawing the boy's attention up from his hands to his face. He's shuffling more slowly than usual, buying time to talk, but of course the boy doesn't know that. "What's your name?"

The boy doesn't say anything, just shakes his head. Well, Nino wasn't expecting it to be that easy anyway.

He pulls a card from the deck — the two of clubs — and presents it. "Is this your card?"

The boy leans forward to examine the card, then sits back. There's a hint of a smile in his eyes. "No."

"Hm." Nino slides the card back into the deck and resumes shuffling. "Well, what can you do?"

"Do?" the boy repeats.

Nino nods at the bandage on his arm. When he realizes what Nino's looking at, he immediately covers it with his other hand, flushing bashfully. "Don't worry," Nino says, "we're in the same club," and he shows the boy his own brand, the one seared into the back of his left hand. When that just makes him look more uneasy, Nino sighs and says, "Let me guess. You've never actually met someone like you, right? Just heard how awful we all are?"

The boy nods.

"Well, not everything you hear is true. I promise Captain and I are only trying to help." He pulls another card from the deck — the eight of hearts — and presents this one as well. "Is _this_ your card?"

The boy's not smiling anymore, but he still plays along. "No."

Nino clicks his tongue and sets his deck onto the floor between them. "I give up then."

The boy starts to get up, but when he sets his left foot on the ground, he notices that something is stuck to the bottom of it. He leans over and reaches down to pick it up.

It's a card: the three of spades. He looks back at Nino, eyes wide, but Nino just smirks.

The boy sits back down. "Wanna play something?"

Nino smiles fully as he reshuffles the deck. "What do you know?"

*

On the third day, the boy throws up his breakfast. He develops a fever, and his body begins to shake. They get him back onto the futon, and when he's fallen asleep, Satoshi says, "It's looking for a way out."

"The lightning?" Nino asks. He's trying to understand, but it's difficult when all he has are bits and pieces.

Satoshi just nods, silent.

By the fourth day, he's gotten worse. He doesn't move, doesn't eat, doesn't talk, just lies on Satoshi's futon and sweats and shakes. Nino wants to help, but Satoshi tells him there's nothing they can do. Nino's only choice is to trust — hope — that he's right.

*

On the fifth day, Nino goes back to see Masaki. Usually he gives Masaki a week for this kind of information-gathering, but at this rate they might not have two more days to spare.

When he gets to the apothecary, Masaki is talking to a boy Nino's never seen before about how bottled fire works, while Masaki's parents are selling something to a haughty-looking noblewoman, presumably the boy's mother. Nino wanders the aisles and makes his way to the back, to Masaki's little chemistry station, while he waits.

After a few minutes, Masaki bursts into the room, as excited as ever. "Nino-chan! I wasn't expecting you back so early!"

Nino sets down the book he was glancing at and says, "Yeah, I wasn't really expecting it either. It's sort of an emergency."

Masaki nods and comes closer so they can lower their voices. "Okay, so you said a noble _son_ , right? Because the Ohmoto, Kashino, and Nishiwaki houses have all —"

"No, no," Nino cuts in. "Definitely a son."

"Well, first I looked into the Akanishi house, because their son is always getting into trouble, but right now he's safe at home. Same goes for the Ohkura and Maruyama sons. And Sakurai Sho was in here just now, you saw him yourself. The only one I couldn't get any information on was Matsujun."

Nino narrows his eyes. "What do you mean, you couldn't get any information?"

"Well, his father was in here the other day asking about memory potions, and I said, 'Hey, how's Jun doing,' but he just stared and then changed the subject."

"Masaki, what does he look like?"

"Who, Matsumoto-san? Well, he's pretty old —"

Nino scowls and cuffs Aiba over the head. "No, you idiot, his _son_."

"Oh, you mean Jun! Well, he's about this tall, and he's got a nose like this, and hair like this, and eyebrows like _this_ —"

*

When Nino gets back home, Satoshi is gone, and the boy is in his usual spot. He walks into the room where the boy is lying and asks, "Are you awake?"

The boy opens his eyes and gives a sound of acknowledgment.

Nino kneels before the futon and says, "Jun."

Immediately, the boy's eyes shoot wide open as he looks up at Nino. He does his best to hide the shock, but he's not very good at it. Finally, he grits out, "That's not my name."

"Yes it is," Nino says, calm. "Are you familiar with Aiba's Apothecary? Do you know their son?"

The boy's eyebrows knot together. "Masaki?"

"Yep. He's my best friend. We've known each other since we were kids."

Before he even finishes his sentence, the boy starts trying to sit up, but he can barely move. "Don't," he's whispering, "don't take me back —"

"I'm not taking you anywhere," Nino says, trying to reassure him. "I want to _help_ you, Jun —"

"Don't call me that!" the boy screams — actually _screams_ , raw and terrified. He finally manages to sit up, shaking even harder now than he was before, and the wool blanket Satoshi draped over him that morning falls away from his shoulders. Nino glances downward, his eyes drawn by the movement of the blanket, and he sees the bandage on the boy's forearm, sees the blood that's soaked through it.

"Shit," he gasps, springing to his feet. The sudden movement startles the boy, but right now that feels like the least of Nino's concerns. "Has Satoshi been cleaning your wounds?" he asks, and when the boy just stares at him, he tries to think back through his memories. He doesn't even remember seeing Satoshi _touch_ the boy.

He steps closer but the boy shrinks away, pressing himself to the wall. "I'm not going to hurt you," Nino says, "I just want to see your arm. It's probably infected, and that's probably why you're sick, and if you just let me see it I can bring Masaki here to heal you —"

He reaches for the boy's arm, wanting only to see the wound, but the boy screams, "Don't touch me!", and lashes out to protect himself.

And then Nino stops thinking, because everything has turned to pain. It starts at his arm, where the boy's fingers have wrapped around him, but it spreads so quickly and with such intensity that he can no longer distinguish one body part from another. All he knows is that it's the worst thing he's ever felt — worse than getting stabbed, worse than getting branded — as every inch of him, every nerve in his body, lights up in sharp, twisting agony.

He has no concept of how long it lasts, but when it finally stops, he's on the ground in front of Satoshi's futon. His ears are ringing and his body is blessedly numb, but after a few moments of lying there, his senses start to come back: he can feel now that his body is sore and tingling, but the only part that really hurts anymore is his arm.

He manages to push himself onto his back, groaning. When he tilts his head up, he can see Jun, kneeling on the futon, and at his side, holding him over the blanket that's back around his shoulders, is Satoshi. As the ringing in his ears fades, Nino can start to make out the panicked mantra of "I'm sorry" and "I didn't mean to" and "please don't take me back" that's spilling out of Jun's mouth.

With every second that passes, he feels a little more of his strength coming back. He turns onto his side, then up on his elbows, and he can see where his arm is already starting to bruise, blotches of dark purple blooming where Jun's skin had touched his. With another burst of effort, he gets up on his knees; Jun and Satoshi both turn to look at him, Jun with wide, tear-brimmed eyes, Satoshi with his usual calm stare.

"So," Nino rasps. "Is it out now? The lightning?"

Jun's tearful expression doesn't budge. But Satoshi smiles.


End file.
